


No Rhyme or Reason

by eris_of_imladris



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 23:14:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4805861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eris_of_imladris/pseuds/eris_of_imladris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meredith tries to write a rhyming children's book. It doesn't go well...</p><p>Story of the Month on Warden's Vigil, November 2014!</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Rhyme or Reason

Meredith was insane.

At least, that was the latest rumor from Lowtown. The insane templar bitch who went around murdering innocent people for no reason. The usual. But this time, they had taken it too far. The rumormongers had implied that she was terrifying even to those under the Chantry's protection - even the young orphans the Chantry took in. Orphans like she herself had been, many years ago.

She took large, confident strides through Hightown, clutching what appeared to be a sheaf of parchment in her hand. The papers ruffled against her gauntlets as she moved, staring down anyone who seemed to be questioning her purpose. Surely some people were wondering why the Knight Commander was wandering around with her sword strapped to her back rather than in her hand and delivering random papers to the Chantry when she had a legion of Templars who could have done this exact job for her.

But no, this random assemblage of paper was not an errand to be run. This was Literature. High Literature. Literature of such importance that Meredith herself had set out an entire afternoon to write when she had far more important things to be doing.

To be more exact, it was a book for the children. No illustrations - she did not have that much free time, after all - but it was a glorious compilation of the entire alphabet set to rhyme to help the youngest citizens of Kirkwall to fully appreciate the dangers of mages and specifically maleficarum.

She knew from experience what time the children were usually read to, and burst into the room with all the presence she could muster. "Sister, I have a book I would like to read to the children," she plastered on a smile, thinking of how wonderful this would be for her reputation. Reading to orphans - especially reading a book she had written herself - would set the record straight.

She sat down in a high-backed chair and smoothed the pages down, holding them up so the children could see her extremely tidy handwriting.

She was NOT insane.

"A is for Abomination..."

"A is for Abomination, and they are not snuggly  
They’re big and red and scary and damned and very ugly"

A few of the boys in the front row snickered, and Meredith glared at them. Nothing else rhymed with "ugly"... and "snuggly" was a word the children would know, even if none of them had heard of abominations. And not all abominations were red and scarred, some were malformed and hideous, but she couldn't scare the children too much. Just enough to ensure their obedience. She turned the page.

"B is for Blood Mage, whose arms are full of scars  
Please tell us if you see dangerous maleficars!"

Here was where the real message of the book began: mages are evil. Turn in mages. And yes, while maleficarum was the correct conjugation of the word, absolutely nothing rhymed with maleficarum. She had tried everything. Even candelabrum was only a partial rhyme.

"Hey, there's one!" A young elven boy yelled out, and Meredith swiveled around so fast that her head nearly smacked into the hilt of her sword. She stood up and drew her sword in one move, prompting the "oooooh"s of the older children. Looking down at the empty space behind the chair, she heard tittering voices giggling behind her, and then the elf boy again. "Made you look!"

Calm. No violence. Counting to ten - and then twenty - in her head, she clamped her eyes shut and turned around. The disrespectful little rat was squirming in his seat, nudging the boy next to him. When she met his eyes, he returned a challenging gaze.

"Blood mages are NOT a joke. They are a plague to our land and none of us - you included - will be safe if there are any around here."

The boy snickered again, but he would get his. Specifically, in a few letters. She turned the page once again.

"C is for the Circle, where all mages belong  
If there’s a mage outside the Circle, that is very wrong"

The children nodded as they were trained to do by the sisters, even the one nodding beside Meredith's chair to remind the children of their fledgling views. There was nothing more to elaborate on this point. Mages belonged in the Circle, and there was no room for compromise.

"D is for Darkspawn, scourge of the Blight  
Formed by magisters who scorned the Maker’s light"

At the bottom of this page she had drawn a little miniature genlock with its teeth bared, grinning. She tried to ignore the elf boy as he made the face the genlock was making and growled at a little human girl behind him, and she yelped. Back to the story. She must not waver.

"E is for Exalted March, a legend of the tales  
Of how our Chantry fought against Tevinter and the Dales"

Every child knew this lesson as well. They began fidgeting, poking each other, not caring to think of the pointy sword belonging to the woman losing her patience as she read to them. They were losing their concentration? It was time to get to the more... intriguing parts of the rhyme. The parts that would haunt their dreams, make them into the good little Chantry boys and girls they were destined to be.

"F is for Fade, mages go there when they dream  
If they make deals with demons there, they will make you scream"

"Why?" asked the little elven boy, leaning forward again.

"Because mages attract demons in the Fade."

"Why?"

"To disturb the peace and harm innocents."

"Why?"

"Because mages are evil."

"Why?"

"Because they have magic."

"Why?"

"The Maker gave them magic."

"Why?"

"Because He made them that way, do not question the will of the Maker!" she snapped, practically crumpling the next page as she turned it.

"G is for the Golden City, which magisters turned black  
When they stormed into the Fade and mounted an attack"

There. If that annoying kid wanted to know why mages were so dangerous, at least he should know the tale of how the magisters even threatened the sanctity of the Maker. Their powers were unnatural - supernatural, in fact - and they had no purpose being out in civilized society. She looked down at the boy, who looked back up at her but kept his mouth shut. Good.

"H is for Holy Smite, a Templar’s mighty power  
To crush a mage who’s breaking rules just like a dainty flower"

"F...flower?" One little girl squeaked, and belatedly Meredith noticed she was playing with a batch of dandelions. She offered one up to the templar, who held it aloft and then directed a Holy Smite at the flower. Since it was not a mage, it had no effect... so she surreptitiously crushed the head with her gauntleted fingers. She handed the stem back to the girl, who clutched onto it, examining every angle of the ruined flower. A few seeds drifted towards the ground, settling at her feet.

Now, to settle her score with the little elf boy. She did not have anyone in mind when this next verse was written, but it seemed to apply perfectly to the situation at hand. She stared him straight in the eye and turned the page.

"I is for Imperium - go there, you’re dumb or brave  
If you’re an elf just watch yourself or they’ll sell you as a slave"

The boy did not gasp, nor did he react in any other way besides his already large eyes bugging out so much that it looked like they were going to fall out of his head. He blinked a few times, then met Meredith's gaze.

"I'm strong, no one can mess with me," he flexed a tiny bicep, oblivious to the fact that Meredith herself could out-bicep him several times over until she raised her arm. Then, he finally began to react, raising an eyebrow. "Is... is it true?"

"I do not lie." The situation merited no more explanation, and she had no desire to get into another question match again.

"Knight Commander?" The sister standing to the left of her chair raised her mousy voice, but Meredith ignored her. Time to continue with the reading.

"J is for Justinia V, your protector and mine  
Who leads the Chantry as our shepherdess and our Divine"

The sister started nodding slightly, perhaps beginning to approve more of Meredith's message. It had been the work of an afternoon to craft something that fit the purposes of the Templars as well as the Chantry, but she was not going to give up on her self-appointed mission. With the sister smiling at him, the little elf boy started wiggling in his seat again, already forgetting the message. Well, now that Meredith had placated the Chantry, she could get back to the true message of the book.

"K is for Kirkwall, our city large and grand  
If our mages don’t behave, I’ll authorize the brand"

The children looked confused, but Meredith was pleasantly surprised that the obnoxious elf boy did not ask "why" again. If they didn't understand what the brand was, let them ask the sisters later. Actually, no, if they asked the sisters, they might spread more of the nasty rumors.

"The brand is another way of saying the sunburst on the foreheads of mages who have undergone the Right of Tranquility. Do you know what that means?" Heads shook and Meredith continued. "Have you ever seen someone with the sunburst - the symbol of the Chantry - on their foreheads?"

A little girl raised her hand but didn't wait for anyone to look at her before she began to speak. "They act funny."

"Well, yes, because they can't go to the Fade anymore." Vacant eyes. Had they already forgotten the rhyme about the Fade? Were all children such idiots? If she went back there now, she would probably be repeating parts of the book all day, and contrary to popular belief, she had more important things to be doing. This was just supposed to be a quick opportunity to boost her reputation, nothing more. She turned the page.

"L is for Lyrium, a curse with which mages are afflicted  
Templars feel the pain as well because we’re all addicted"

With the last word, she gave a pointed look to the Chantry sister, sending a silent rebuke. The woman gave her a cursory glance and hurried from the room, her slippers sliding along the floor. Meredith had a sickening feeling that she knew where the woman was going, but she had to go on with the reading.

She was just about to turn the page when a little voice peeped up at her ear. "You're a Templar?" Meredith nodded. "I'm sorry you don't feel good. Sister Penny says hugs make you feel better," she said as she wrapped her arms around Meredith's arm.

Meredith could hardly believe it; she sort of wished Orsino and the others were there to take advantage of the boost to her reputation. But she could not fight the feeling of discomfort and - was that nausea - at having a child hugging her. It had been too many years. She pried the small arms from hers, wordlessly leading the child back to the group and returning to her chair.

"M is for the Maker, our deity, who cried  
When cruel Tevinter magisters slaughtered Andraste, his Bride"

"That story makes me cry too," an elven girl piped up, her little voice grating on Meredith's ears. "I don't like the part when she dies."

Finally, a teaching opportunity - "Well, it was the fault of the Tevinter magisters - "

"I like the part with Shartan," interrupted the disrespectful elf boy, with a smug smile on his face. Of course the little deviant would like blasphemy. Short of magic, he seemed to possess every single personality trait she hated, and it was no surprise to her that he would be interested in the Dissonant Verses.

"Of course you would, it's your name," the girl answered, sticking out her lip.

"Your name... is Shartan?" Meredith asked, her lips forming the syllables of the forbidden word hesitantly. She felt like she was swearing in the Chantry. Did Elthina know about this? She mentally filed a note to tell Elthina that one of the young ones was calling himself Shartan. He would be disciplined before night fell, if this was true.

"Yep! Shar for short." He grinned. At this point, Meredith ran a hand down her face, wondering if the Maker had sent him specifically to drive her insane. No. She was not insane. She would not become insane. She would not let children, of all people, drive her out of her mind. Turn the page.

"N is for Nevarran Accord, in which our groups unite  
To join our common Chantry cause with Templar might"

This was a part of the history the children probably had not learned about yet, but there were not many things that started with N, and along with some other letters like X and Z, she was having quite a bit of trouble coming up with rhymes. She was a Knight Commander, not a poet, and ordinarily she never would have done anything like this. But she had her pride to defend, and if people were going to call her insane, she would need the support of the Chantry to stay in power.

"O is for Orlais, a strong and mighty land  
Home to our Chantry and our Cathedral Grand"

As her mouth finished uttering the phrase, she was aware of a heaviness in her feet. One of the little boys was crawling towards her, thumb in his mouth, which he then popped out to start squirming with his hands raised in the air, holding onto the skirts of her armor.

"What are you doing?" She barked. No. She could not get flustered. She could not let these children get to her, no matter how annoying they got.

"Sit in your lap?"

"No!" She barked, lifting the offending child up in the air. He squealed in delight, probably assuming he was about to get the prime spot in Meredith's lap while the rest of the group just watched. Instead, she stood from the chair, took a few steps forward, and deposited him at the annoying elf boy's feet.

"Shar?" The boy asked, and the little elf boy patted him on the head.

"Come on, sit in my lap," he offered, glaring up at Meredith. If he had his way, she would leave the building screaming in frustration. She sent a small huffing noise in the direction of the two boys as she turned the page once more.

"P is for Phylactery, tubes of blood kept in a pantry  
They’re used to capture mages who rebel against the Chantry"

Meredith herself knew this was a terrible rhyme. Nothing rhymed with Chantry, and she had tried to rhyme with phylactery with even worse results. In hindsight, she realized she should have hired a poet, or at least encouraged one of the Templars who had slightly more literary talent to get involved rather than herself. Well, it was too late for that.

“Ewww, blood,” a voice called out, but Meredith did not stop to explain. There was a fine balance between how the Chantry used blood to find escaped mages and how mages used blood to be dangerous in the first place, and she did not want to confuse their feeble minds.

"Q is for Qunari, their blasphemy is called the Qun  
And if I’m right (as I often am) they’ll be invading soon"

Her words had the intended effect. A shriek echoed in the hall, and she let a smug smile sit on her lips. Looking down at the crying girl, she saw a puffy red face and shocked, tear-stained eyes, with a little whimpering noise. Meredith did not offer a word of comfort, or tell the child to not be afraid – she knew the child was just the first one to realize the danger they were all in, and before long the whole room would be like this. And then Meredith’s purpose would be complete.

The little girl whined something too quiet for Meredith to hear, nudging into Shar with her shoulder. She sat up to her full height, which was not exactly tall, and pointed directly at the annoying little elf boy. Watching the girl blubber for another moment, she was sure that she had just gained her first ally from among the children when the girl yelled out, “He pulled my hair!”

Nothing about Qunari. Or phylacteries. Or blood mages. Or anything else that she had been talking about for the last… it felt like she had been there forever. Her gaze darted to the various children in the room, meeting their frightened eyes once they saw her righteous fury. Only Shar looked up at Meredith with a smug smile.

She would not give him the satisfaction of a reaction. She would not. She could not. But nevertheless the page crumpled in her hand and she could practically hear smoke hissing out of her ears as if a mage had set her brain on fire. She began to wonder if small children were invented by the Maker to plague His most devoted. How in the world did Elthina put up with them every day? Either way, she was not about to give either child a response. She placed the tattered page at her feet and raised her voice above the now-crying girl.

"R is for Right of Annulment..."

Her voice stopped as the door swung open, an irate sister – the one from before – leading Grand Cleric Elthina through the doorway. “See what I told you? She’s reading them poison. Absolute poison. I know she’s the Knight Commander but even she should not be allowed to do this.” Meredith raised an eyebrow at the sister’s rant, waiting for Elthina to take her side as she usually did.

“Knight Commander, may we talk?” Elthina said in her calmest voice, oblivious to the sister practically having a conniption fit next to her. 

"Grand Cleric," Meredith intoned her head, facing the new arrivals rather than the gaggle of fidgeting children and the girl still crying at the little elf boy. "To what do I owe this honor?"

"Are you going to let her get away with this again?"

Meredith fixed the sister with a cool glance. "I do not recall ever reading to the children before."

"Do you know what she said about - " she hushed her voice - "lyrium?"

"Is that the part with the hugs?" The obnoxious boy grinned widely, daring to oppose her once again. But with Elthina in her presence, he would get what was coming to him... right?

Meredith and Elthina both glared at the sister, but it was Elthina who spoke first. "Sister, if you wouldn't taking the children out for a few moments?"

The sister grumbled, but she knew better than to disobey a direct order from the Grand Cleric. Without a word, she swept out of the room, and the majority of the children followed her, but of course the one little elf boy with the blasphemous name and a temperament to match was still sitting on the rug.

"That means you too, Shar," Elthina gently chided.

Meredith was flabbergasted. "You - you let this child call himself - " It felt like the entire world was upside down. Not only was the Grand Cleric not taking her side, but she was also allowing one of her charges to use a blasphemous name... had she been corrupted? Was she the thrall of a blood mage?

Shar interrupted her train of thought by letting out a loud laugh and running from the room, and Elthina shut the door behind him. Now that she and Meredith were alone, Meredith wasted no time in beginning to explain her side of things. "I was educating the children about the tenets of the Chantry and the Templar Order - at least I was when that annoying little..." She dared not say knife-ears in the Chantry, even though she was thinking it. "child was making every effort to undermine me."

"Meredith, what exactly were you reading? The sister mentioned something about lyrium - and selling children into slavery?"

Of course she would have told Elthina about the two most incendiary verses of the entire book. "I wrote it myself to warn the children about the dangers of blood magic and to encourage obedience. I did not intend the verse about the Imperium to be offensive... until I met the little heathen you call Shar."

"We do not call children heathens, Meredith," Elthina reminded in a calm tone of voice. "His mother was friends with one of the sisters here, and she named her baby before she died. The Maker would understand - after all, it is not as if the child is named Maferath," she explained.

At least his name isn't Maferath?! Meredith thought, and it was at this moment when she realized she was not going to win.

Meredith was dumbfounded. Why was Elthina defending the little pest? "Grand Cleric, I must say that the reading was going perfectly well until the boy - Shar, if people insist on calling him that - got involved." She rifled through the pages of the book that she spent so long writing, trying to remember exactly which parts he had disturbed. "He started here. B is for blood mage. Pretended to see one behind my chair. And F for Fade, I can't even tell you how many inane questions he asked me - Why? Why? Why? until I thought I was going to..."

"Meredith." Elthina interrupted her rant. "I don't think he understood what you were talking about. Most children his age don't."

"If they're growing up in the Chantry, they should," Meredith bit back. "How else are they to understand their sacred duty to the Maker?"

"Just because they live here does not mean they will become Chantry brothers and sisters, as you yourself know," Elthina reminded. Yes. Meredith knew this part. She had been no more inclined to be a Chantry sister than she was to become a mage, and had made the decision at fourteen to leave the Chantry's protection and join the Templar Order. But would the boy make the same choice?

She sneered at the thought of him trying to get into the Templars. Not while I'm in charge, she thought viciously. Perhaps he was better suited to the Chantry than she was... Meredith closed her eyes for a moment, trying to picture the little boy in Chantry clothes administering to his flock. A shudder ran through her body, subtle enough that she wasn't sure if Elthina saw. The only thing that child could lead was a riot.

"Indeed, yet from my time here, I recall the sisters reading us books about relevant subjects. There is no harm in attempting to educate these wards of the Chantry." She neglected to mention that she would not have behaved much better than Shar if she had been in the Chantry at such a young age. The boy was still an innocent, and by the time she was ten, her innocence had been lost forever.

Elthina nodded. "Yes, we have some approved literature that the sisters are allowed to choose from. If you had only announced your intention earlier, I could have provided you with one of these books." She motioned towards a shelf with books stacked neatly to the top. She picked up a book at random and brought it over to Meredith. "Here is an example."

Meredith looked down at the book. It had a richly designed cover with colors on the front and - was that a templar? And a mage? Holding hands? What kind of foul literature was this? It was then that her eyes fell upon the title, which was written in the arc of a rainbow above the heads of the happy... Meredith hoped they were not a couple. That would be difficult to explain, if not downright illegal.

"The Circle of Love?!" Meredith felt a lurch in her stomach that usually had to do with impending vomit. She took a deep breath through her nose. If this was what the Chantry was telling the children, it was little wonder that there were so many blood mages rampant and uncontrollable throughout Kirkwall. Lifting the cover gingerly as if picking up a dead mouse by its bloodied tail, she opened it to the first page.

And Elthina thought MY book was bad?! She thought to herself as, unbeknownst to the two women in the room, a small elven boy hid behind a pillar.

Meredith opened to the first page and was greeted with a picture of a little boy pointing at a woman whose hair was standing up on edge as the ends began fraying with flame. Her mouth was open in a wide O as a group of Templars led another boy away. Perhaps the book was not as bad as she thought... and then she saw the words. 

"One day Ellis said to his mother, 'I desire  
To know why Bryce's gone and your hair is on fire'

His mother knelt down and spoke slowly, outraged  
'Well, it looks like your brother Bryce is a mage.'"

She read slowly, unbelieving that this was actually real. "That's the book with you in it!" A little voice yelled, and the book was grabbed out of her hands by an overenthusiastic elf boy who turned a few pages to find a picture of the Templars arriving at the Gallows with the boy in tow... and there she was, smiling on the page, creepily wide, a smile that could curdle milk and yet was being presented as friendly for the sake of the children... 

She swallowed uncomfortably. And she would not answer the boy anymore. "Grand Cleric, is there a message to this book?" Meredith snapped the cover shut, but Elthina was too quick for her. She took the book back and advanced to the last page, the part with the Templar and the mage hugging. Thankfully, Meredith herself was not in the picture this time.

"Mages belong here, it's quite a fun place  
So help little mages get into this space

Talk to the Templars, they help and inspire  
And save people's hair from catching on fire"

Meredith rolled her eyes a bit, but she understood the message. Children should turn in their friends if they're mages. A valid message, she was forced to admit, but... that artwork... she shoved the book back onto the shelf.

"Read it again!" A little voice yelled, and a giggling Shar ran out from behind a pillar. So this message had reached him when hers had failed... Meredith began to think of words that rhymed with "evil" when Elthina shook her head at the little boy, which led him to run out of the room pouting a bit that he was not (yet) a mage.

Elthina grinned. "Ah, the enthusiasm of children... but is there a reason why you came here today, Meredith?"

Meredith debated for a moment whether she would reveal her true purpose to the Grand Cleric. Elthina was like a mother figure to her, and while this gave them a close bond, she never forgot that Elthina was one of the few people whose orders she had to obey. She did not want to reveal every facet of her life to Elthina, but as a cleric, the woman had an uncanny ability to tell when Meredith was lying or withholding something, and seeing as this was something relatively minor, she had no true need to hide the truth.

"I have heard many disturbing rumors of late. Rumors pegging me as insane, impersonable... perhaps I am, indeed, growing out of touch with the Kirkwall populace. I thought that reading to children in the Chantry might help my reputation." She hated talking like this, feeling vulnerable like this, but she knew out of all the people in Kirkwall, the Grand Cleric was least likely to use her words against her.

Elthina listened carefully to her words, nodding her head. "You must not worry about these rumors, Meredith. You are the sword-arm of the Chantry and because of your duties, there will always be some who do not support you. You must instead trust in the support of the Maker."

Meredith knew this. She had heard this so many times before. But there was still a nagging part inside of her that wished for the people's acceptance. She had chosen the life of a Templar, which was not an easy path, but by serving the people she had made herself a figurehead for all feedback towards the Chantry, both positive and negative. Of course, no one would say these things to her face, but she had ways of finding this information.

Without a response from Meredith, Elthina continued, "It is perfectly acceptable to come in and read to the children, but I must insist that you choose Chantry-approved literature next time. After all, we both have the common goal of teaching the young ones to be productive citizens, so our materials should not fall outside of what you consider acceptable."

Even though it was said with a smile, Meredith knew it was an order. She was to choose an approved text, or nothing at all. For today, the choice was simple, and she gathered the pages she had written, even the crumpled one, and smoothed it out against her breastplate. Nodding politely to Elthina, she began walking towards the door, not realizing that a small elven boy was keeping a close watch.

It's only beginning, he thought, as he formulated more plans. He was sure the woman would be back at the Chantry again - the templars were there often enough - but now, he had a mission... and he was just as dedicated as a certain Knight Commander to succeed, reading time or not.


End file.
